


of my house and heart

by kaminagi



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, unapologetically fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:59:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4126263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaminagi/pseuds/kaminagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No imagination is required for Arthur when he finds out he's going to be a dad.  And wow, does Ariadne like potatoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of my house and heart

**Author's Note:**

> All because I saw [this](http://nolanrae.tumblr.com/post/115618098146/death-limes-never-imagine-your-favorite-male) and how could I not? Never imagine? Nope, too late.

_never imagine your favorite male character becoming a dad_

 

They got married in December on a rainy day in Paris, after they've known each other for only ten months. It's one of those completely impulsive things that Arthur rarely does and even this takes a lot of planning, however sudden. But he has no regrets and neither does she. He remembers the smile on Ariadne's face, even if she was shivering in the white taffeta sundress (because it was the first dress she found in a boutique she liked immediately and had not considered the weather at all) and pulling a brocaded shawl around herself to stay warm.

Marrying Ariadne was probably the best least-planned out thing that Arthur had ever agreed to. But they both know it's right. He didn't expect that many surprises afterward, at least so soon.

But around February, he returns home to find Ariadne asleep on their bed with a glass of half-finished lemonade on the nightstand and her favourite book. He toes off his shoes and socks, takes off his tie and jacket, and curls up behind her. She wakes when he kisses her neck lightly. When she turns in his arms, Ariadne brings her lips against his, lazy and warm. When she pulls away, there's anxiety in her still-sleepy face.

"Hey," she murmurs. "I have some news."

"Yeah?" Arthur strokes her hair, distracted by how the wavy locks are all mussed up.

He wonders if there's something wrong, because she's been very tired lately and dozing off. There's a moment when Arthur panics, but he waits for Ariadne to speak instead.

"Look at me."

He does and she brings his hands down, under her shirt, right over the smooth skin of her flat stomach. Her skin is warm against his cool hands. Arthur blinks at her as she holds his hands there.

"Yeah?" he repeats, feeling something growing in his mind, right in the front on his head.

"I'm pregnant," Ariadne says rather abruptly. "Almost eleven weeks."

He hears it and it floats around in that place in his mind and it doesn't quite sink in right away. Arthur feels his eyes growing wide, like he doesn't know what to do, looks down from her face to her stomach where their hands are resting, and then back up to her face. He blinks several times.

Ariadne's unmistakeably awake now and for a minute, Arthur thinks she might cry. But he feels a strange overwhelming feeling inside himself and the next thing he realizes, Arthur is kissing the love of his life and pulling her against him as close as he can.

When they pull apart, breathless and unable to stop smiling, he sees the relief and happiness on her face.

"Oh my god," she whispers, resting her forehead against his, "I'm going to be a mom."

He starts to laugh. "Oh my god," he echoes her. "I'm going to be a dad."

 

(It takes an hour later for him to realize his mouth is really tired because he can't stop smiling. When he tries not to, Ariadne points out to him that he's doing it again. A little smirk that he can't seem to hide from her. It makes her laugh and he loves that.)

  

 

 

_don’t picture him seeing the baby for the first time_

 

It's some weeks before Ariadne goes for an ultrasound. Things are going smoothly, but it doesn't stop them from worrying. It's just in Arthur's nature to try and account for everything he can, though for Ariadne, it's because this is all completely new and she's not confident because it's not like she can draw from prior experience or anything.

"Nothing else quite like this," she laughs nervously as she lays on the table, chair, bed, whatever thing, that people rest on in the medical office for this sort of procedure. "Not that that's applicable here."

"I don't know," he muses, sounding calmer than he feels. "I think it took some pure creation to get us here."

She smiles and swats him playfully, but then takes his hand. It's cool and she holds it loosely, just so they can touch. That reassuring quality that comes from holding hands.

The technician is friendly enough, comments on how things are going well, and grey and white blurry blobs on the screen.

"And there you go - there's your baby," the technician says at last.

They stare at the mark and Arthur can see the excitement in Ariadne's eyes. She looks back at him, her eyes shining and disbelieving smile on her face. The technician tries hard to hide her laughter when Ariadne suddenly realizes she's lost track of the image and the technician has to point it out again.

"Do you want to know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Ariadne looks to him. Arthur doesn't. "I want to be surprised," he admits.

His beloved laughs. "You, who want to be prepared for everything, want this to be a surprise?"

Arthur just shrugs, makes an off-hand remark about how even he likes a good surprise sometimes. When his eyes return to the screen, he doesn't look away until he has every detail carefully recreated perfectly in his mind. He wants this moment to join the memories he has ingrained inside him. His fingers tighten around Ariadne's hand.

 

(When they get home, he takes the sonogram - it's the first picture of their child, after all - and carefully places it in a photo album.

Ariadne doesn't learn this until later, mostly because she's distracted with strange cravings. She's incredibly touched when she finds out and cries a little, then asks him to make her something to eat. Today, it's lime slices, peeled like an orange, eaten with Triscuits, and Wild Berry Skittles mixed in hummus and exactly one slice of marbled cheese. It's not the weirdest thing she's craved.)

 

 

  

_refrain from thinking about how he worries and frets over his significant other during labor_

 

So, Arthur doesn't panic. Except today. Because even after nine months of expecting that this was coming, researching and preparing for every scenario, he hates that there's nothing he can do but barely hold himself together today in anxiety.

Ariadne, on the other hand, is strangely tranquil. ("By the way," Ariadne asks the nurse, "is it going to hurt? Like, bad?" and Arthur feels his mind float away for a second at how candid she's being.)

Except during the contractions. Then she's swearing up a storm and agitating the hell out of everyone about the pain. Arthur isn't annoyed by her, but she hits him really hard as she shuffles around the room in her blue hospital gown and tells him to go away and just _find something to make the damn pain stop_. Repeatedly.

"Is it time yet?" she demands. "Because, damn it, I want the baby to come out and _aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrhhhhhhhh_!"

She grabs his arm. Her grip really, really hurts, but Arthur doesn't say that right now and tries to hold her steady. He doesn't care about his shoulder getting dislocated today. Totally worth it, because it's Ariadne.

"Oh, god, I don't mean this, but I really hate you right now. So, so much," she says, her face contorting and trying desperately not to crouch down. "This is way, way, worse than any cramps I've ever gotten, ever."

"Ariadne," he says helplessly. He hates that. Being unable to do anything. Not knowing if he can do anything for her.

Because everything he does is wrong right now. He tries to hold her up, she doesn't want him to touch her. When he hovers, she tells him go away. When he steps away (a metre) to give her space, she starts to sob about how he's too far from her and why is he leaving her _all alone_ and his heart just wretches. She's thirsty, but the water is too hot or too cold. The cushion he brings her is too fluffy, too firm, too _not just right_. Arthur doesn't know what to do and feels his nerves getting frayed at he can't make things perfect for her and he feels just completely incompetent.

This repeats for the next few hours, until the doctor and nurses check in and decide it's time.

Ariadne's face is covered in sweat as she sits up on the bed and she's gripping her bishop tight enough in one hand that it's starting to bleed. It takes all of Arthur's strength to pry her fingers open and replaces the totem with his hand.

"You'll be okay," he says, "It's fine, just keep going-"

"I know, I know," she snaps. "I'm pushing-" She takes a deep breath as the doctor encourages her again.

"Almost there, the head is beginning to crown-" the doctor says.

"Shut up, I am pushing as hard as I can and oh my god, why isn't the baby _out_ yet?" Ariadne turns to Arthur. "You did this to me, _do something!_ "

Except he can't and he gives her a completely lost look and she actually rolls her eyes at him. "I know I'm being unreasonable, but this had better not be a dream, Arthur, because if I wake up and have to do this all over again I _URGGGGHHHHHaaahhhhhh_!"

And suddenly there's a cry and Ariadne falls back against on the pillows. "Finally," she breathes.

He has a strong sense of unreality now that Ariadne's grip has slackened. All the bones in Arthur's left hand are probably broken because his hand is completely numb, but he still squeezes back as hard as he can when Ariadne eagerly tries to sit up so she can get a proper look at their child at last.

 

("You're doing this next time," she says groggily. "This hurts way too much...."

He won't ever deny the physical pain of what she has endured. He's been killing himself with worry for some endless number of hours, because there's a fragile part of him that feared that this might have taken her away from him, even though there's another part that reminds him that she's strong and determined and would never give up so easily.

She's the most amazing person he's ever met - the only person he knows and wants to see collapse entire worlds and rebuild them upside down, simply because she can - and this is just adds another reason why he never wants to leave her side.

"Are you wearing jeans?" she says suddenly. "Oh, you really did fall apart today."

Ariadne giggles at his astonishment and he's just shaking his head that even when exhausted, she's still incredibly observant. Oh, how he loves her.)

  

 

 

_abstain from notions of him realizing that he helped make this tiny squishy potato-person and holy shit how cool is that_

 

The baby is tiny. The smallest, most delicate, perfect thing he's ever seen.

"The cutest squishy potato-person I've ever seen," Ariadne says drowsily, gently rocking the baby back and forth in her arms. "Baby, you're so cute! I shall call you spud and you shall be mine. You shall be my spud. I love you, I love you!"

She coos and repeats the words over and over again, leaning over to kiss the soft bundle. The baby snores. It's absolutely adorable. And Arthur doesn't use that word so often anymore. There's a strange dimension to himself that really starting to emerge and he's a bit apprehensive because he didn't know about it before.

"You are not calling our child spud," Arthur says absently. "Or any other tuber or root vegetable."

Arthur stares at the infant in his wife's arms. Something in his breath catches at the sight of them together and he's suddenly filled with awe. Astonished that the little girl in Ariadne's arms is theirs. The apprehension dissipates just like a veil being lifted away.

"It's like a dream," she whispers. "Except I think I'm high on something else and I know I'm not dreaming."

She looks up at Arthur, smiling wide and tired. Her hair is damp still and her skin is red from exertion. She's as beautiful as ever.

"What are you thinking?" she says.

There aren't words, really. Images, abstract thoughts. Ariadne building the moon with their little girl. He and their daughter laughing as they explore a forest of sunflowers. Whether the baby is tiny because all babies are tiny or if it's something she's inherited from her mother (her perfection and delicacy unmistakably are). Arthur can't imagine how this moment came to be, so maybe Ariadne's right - this is like a dream. How their little girl is here because of them. It's too marvelous to fully contemplate.

His gaze doesn't move from Ariadne or the girl. When their eyes meet, her smile softens and there's a twinkle in her eye.

"You're thinking," she says at last in a slow voice and a ridiculously satisfied smile. "Holy tater tots and hash browns, how cool is that? I helped make that tiny squishy potato person!"

"You're really hungry. You really want fries, don't you?" ("Fish and chips," she interrupts, "and/or chicken fingers. Homemade.") Arthur slides his (non-broken right) hand in one of hers and leans over to kiss her forehead, and then the baby's. "But yeah, something like that."

 

(After she finally places their sleeping baby in the bassinet, she lets him crawl into the bed behind her. He wraps his arms around her, tangles their legs together, and pulls her close as she falls asleep. The sound of Ariadne and the baby breathing softly is soothing after such a long day.

His totem is in his pocket, but he doesn't roll it. Arthur does remember how he got here.)

 

 

 

_and above all, eschew ideas about him holding his new child and excitedly whispering “i have a son/daughter” over and over again between giggles as the dorkiest grin spreads across his face_

 

The first time he really holds his daughter, he can't stop smiling.

"I have a daughter," he whispers, mostly to himself. "I have a daughter."

Ariadne has proof. She took a photo. She will place that picture right on top of the bookshelf, eye-level, right next to the copy of an Ada Lovelace biography and _Treasure Island_ , so it can't be missed. Adorable appears to describe it. (There is that word again.)

"Yes, you do," Ariadne responds, tremendously amused and just a little disappointed that he didn't even react given how she keeps taking pictures of him. "Sole daughter of your house and heart."

"Our daughter," he amends, turning to look at Ariadne nestled next to him on the sofa. "Beautiful and clever, just like her mother."

He honestly doesn't care that everyone who ever enters their home sees that picture. ("You look like such a _dad_ ," Ariadne will say, and kiss him on the cheek as his reading glasses slide down his nose.) He doesn't care that they'll say something about how Arthur of all people could look so downright silly about a baby. His baby. Her baby. Their baby.

Because really, he can't help it. He can't believe it, how ridiculously happy he feels, how absolutely dorky he must look, just grinning at the tiny person in his arms with his eyes alight. The baby blinks at him, bright eyes moving back and forth like she doesn't know what amazing thing to look at first. Her eyes finally settle on him. And then she yawns at him, before grabbing his fingers with her little hands. Arthur doesn't bother to hide the fact that's making him giggle. Ariadne is gasping with laughter at the sight of him, _giggling_ because of their daughter.

This is the most perfect, happiest moment of his life so far - Ariadne pressed against his side, with one arm around him and the other gently pulling the soft blanket more securely over their squirming child before she twines her fingers between his. He kisses Ariadne's temple quickly, overwhelmed with love for his little family: the woman next to him with her head on his shoulder and the girl in his arms.

 

("I have a daughter," he repeats, feeling nothing but joy.)

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of stay-at-home dad Arthur amuses me greatly, even if this fic doesn't go that far.


End file.
